Get It Together
by Arpad Hrunta
Summary: Josh tells Leo his reasons for not bringing Donna onto the Santos/McGarry campaign, and Leo gives Josh something to think about. Then Leo gives Donna something to think about. Post-ep to The Ticket and The Mommy Problem, and then to The Al Smith Dinner. No longer a one-shot. Part two of probably three is now up.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own neither the characters nor the universe of _The West Wing_, and make no such claim upon them. I'm simply having some fun here.

Get It Together

_July 30, 2006_

It had been a long week.

Just over a week after the end of the Democratic National Convention, Josh Lyman was frustrated. The White House was not only not cooperating with the Santos/McGarry campaign, but seemed to be trying to actively sabotage it. Leo McGarry was struggling as a candidate. Getting a coherent campaign narrative was proving to be far more difficult than Josh expected. He was having problems with personnel – Josh was starting to figure out who on the campaign was effective, who needed guidance, who was dead weight. Finding qualified staffers was difficult – and finding qualified staffers he could actually hire was even more difficult. If only...

Josh sighed, ran his hand through his unruly hair, and refocused. No time to thing about that. _California. Think about California._

He sat at his desk at Santos/McGarry headquarters, at half past midnight, looking over the latest polling data from the Golden State. It had been instrumental for Matthew Santos in the primaries, and if Joey Lucas' numbers were right (which they usually were) the race in California was far closer than Josh would have expected. The state's demographics and political culture should have made it a naturally Democratic state, and Josiah Bartlet had easily won the state in both of his elections, but the Republican Party's predilection for nominating Californians gave them the state in both of Owen Lassiter's elections, and looked to put it in Arnold Vinick's column in November. Josh couldn't decide whether to gamble and throw campaign money and time into California, or to write it off and concentrate on states like Illinois and Michigan.

Native-son factor versus fifty-five electoral votes...

"Hell of a week, huh, kid?"

Josh looked up to see Leo McGarry in the doorway of his office.

"Hey. You're here late."

"Says the man burning the midnight oil on a Saturday night," Leo said. "I got back from Santa Fe about an hour ago. Thought I'd stop in before I went home."

"How'd it go?"

"Let's just say that running for office is very different from being in your position. It'll get better."

Josh sighed. He knew that having Leo as the Vice Presidential candidate wouldn't be easy at first – for either Leo or for the campaign. His past with addiction had come up immediately, but in a way that was a good thing – everything with Leo was a matter of public record, and if it came up now, right at the beginning, it would be less of an issue later on. And at least it was public, thank God, and there wouldn't be any October Surprises the Republicans had ready to spring on the electorate. Not about Leo, at least.

But it wasn't easy going for anyone. Leo had never run for elected office, and Josh knew that for all his knowledge and political savvy, it was another thing entirely for Leo to be out there in front of the cameras. He was stumbling badly out of the gate, although he had improved his performance, even in the space of a week. Josh knew Leo would improve further. He was Leo McGarry after all.

"Better you than me, Leo," Josh said.

Leo laughed. "I bet you could do this if you put your mind to it. If I can, you can. Having Annabeth to guide me helps a lot."

"She's working out?"

"Yeah. We're lucky to have her. It's all about getting the right people," Leo said, pulling up a chair in front of Josh's desk and sitting down. "Speaking of which, did I see Lou Thornton's name on the office next door?"

"The Congressman hired her yesterday. We need her, Leo. We need a media strategist."

"I thought you didn't like her. After that thing where Jenkins beat your guy Alcott."

"She has a..."

Leo interrupted. "And where Janice Martell beat Philip Brady."

"Despite that..."

"That one was two to one, wasn't it?"

Josh put his face in his hands. "Leo! That's... look. We need her. We need someone to craft a message, and the only people in her league are Toby and Mandy."

"You ever think of getting her on board?"

"Who, Mandy?" Josh shuddered involuntarily. "No. Mandy doesn't play well with others. Lou Thornton just doesn't play nice with me."

"How's she going to work for you, then?"

Josh retrieved a bottle of club soda from his mini-fridge, and poured he and Leo each a glass. "She made it a condition of her employment that she reports directly to the Congressman. Her strategies, her ideas, her hires... they don't go through me at all."

"Josh," Leo said in a slightly annoyed tone, "you can't let people run roughshod over you. You're the campaign manager. You have to be in charge."

There was a bitter note in Josh's laugh. "Tell that to the Congressman. He makes his own decisions, sometimes without consulting me. He's his own man, Leo. It's part of the reason he's my guy."

"That's gotta be a pain at times."

The bitterness was slightly more pronounced this time. "Yeah. Yeah it is. But better him than a human sock puppet like Bingo Bob. I'd ten times rather have a candidate with ideas and an independent streak than a hollow shell of a candidate like that. But it's not like you and the President, Leo. The Congressman and I are still getting to know each other."

"He wouldn't have come this far without you, Josh. He wouldn't have been anywhere at all without you."

"Yeah. Yeah, I know. And at least Lou's smart and talented. God forbid he gave that kind of leeway to some idiot. I can work with Lou, even if we're never going to sing 'Kumbaya' together."

Leo laughed. "Any other hires I should know about?"

"I'm still working on it. I got Edie Ortega as my deputy."

"Yeah, I know. She was good over at the Minority Leader's office. Helped us out with the Clean Air and Water Act."

"She thinks we can get Lester Monroe."

"I thought he was with CBS these days?" Leo asked.

"Apparently he misses the lifestyle."

"God knows why," Leo laughed. "He was damn good with Hoynes eight years ago."

"Yeah. He didn't seem to hate me after I left, so hopefully Edie can get him."

"That's great." Leo took a long drink of the club soda, and waited a minute before continuing. "I heard Donna was here."

Josh bristled. "Leo..."

"I assume it wasn't just to say hello."

"Leo, I don't really want to..."

"And I haven't seen her out there, so I'm guessing you told her no."

Josh ran his hand through his hair, frustrated. "Yes. I mean, I told her no."

Leo shook his head. "You can't make things personal."

"It wasn't personal. It was political."

"Josh..."

"For God's sake, Leo, do you think I wouldn't hire someone the campaign could use for personal reasons?"

Leo considered this. "No. I don't think you would hire someone unless you thought you were doing the right thing politically."

"Thank you."

"Even though you're completely wrong about it not being personal."

"Leo! She spent months... _months_!... trashing the Congressman, belittling him, making personal attacks, claiming he was unqualified."

"I seem to recall you doing the same to the Vice President, Josh."

"Yes I did," Josh said, exasperated. "But two things, Leo. One, I was right. Bingo Bob is all hat, all boots, no brains. And Two: if Russell had won, I wouldn't have been knocking on Will Bailey's door four days after the convention asking for a job as his deputy!"

"Deputy? That's what she asked for?" Leo said.

"Yeah. I know."

"That takes..."

"Chutzpah?" Josh interrupted.

"Yeah. Makes sense, though. She did great on the campaign."

"She was amazing," Josh said, almost reverently.

"She's smart... she's got a Ph.D at Josh Lyman University. Why can't you hire her?"

"Because of what she said, Leo!"

Leo sighed, exasperated. "It was the primaries."

"It doesn't matter. She trashed our candidate, Leo. She attacked him. Personal attacks Leo."

"That's the job, Josh. It's the game."

Josh leaned back. "Yeah. It's the game. And one of the rules of the game is that when you trash somebody, they might not hire you. One of the rules is that things you say have consequences. At the beginning of the campaign, Will Bailey told me not to go negative, or they wouldn't be able to hire me when Russell won. It's not a surprise, Leo, and Donna damn well knew that, too. They went negative first."

"So she went negative. So what?"

"Come on, Leo. Would you have hired Hoynes' spokesman back in '98, four days after the convention? Would you have made him your deputy after what Hoynes' people said about the President during the campaign? Calling him a lightweight, calling him an egghead who should stick to economics lectures, calling him a left-wing, out-of-touch New England elitist who didn't know a damn thing about the needs or wants of real Americans?"

Leo didn't hesitate. "No, I wouldn't have."

"Exactly. Can you imagine what the Republicans would say? They'd use her sound bites against us, make us look like idiots for having her on the team, and make Democrats look like hypocrites," Josh said, standing and pacing about the room.

"We could spin it. What she said? It's the game, Josh."

"Yeah, I know. It's the game. You know it. I know it. She knows it. Will knows it. _Sheila Brooks_ and Vinick's spin machine know it. Every damn operative, commentator, and journalist from here to Seattle knows it, but it doesn't change the game Leo, and it doesn't change the way it's played! You don't trash the other guy, and then expect him to hire you!" Josh stopped and sighed. "We could spin it, I know. We could spend precious time and resources defending her, justifying hiring her, taking the campaign off-message for who knows how long. Or, we could _not_ hire her and not have to do any of it!"

Leo shook his head. "I think you're overestimating things, Josh. More likely, the Republicans wouldn't notice or care. The public probably wouldn't."

"I'm not going to gamble the campaign over 'likely' and 'probably', Leo, not..."

"_Gamble the campaign_? You think hiring Donna _Moss _would gamble the campaign? Seriously, Josh..."

Josh ran his fingers through his hair. "Yeah. Yeah. Maybe. But why risk it?"

"Because she's good? Because she knows her stuff?"

"It doesn't make up for half a year of shilling for God-damned _Bingo Bob_! I got new people out there who believe in Matt Santos. I got people out there who've been with us for months, since you could fit the whole campaign into a station wagon, who believe in Matt Santos. I'm supposed to ask them to trust someone who spent six months telling the country she thought Matt Santos was a worse choice for president than Bob _Russell_? How would they do that, Leo? How would they trust her if I put her in the kind of position she's earned? She deserves? A position where she'd be giving orders to people who never thought Bingo Bob should be within a hundred miles of the Oval Office?"

"They'll trust her when they see that you trust her, Josh," Leo said softly.

Josh said nothing.

"You _do_ trust her, don't you?" Leo asked. "Josh?"

Josh ran his hands through his hair.

"How do I know she's not going to just leave me before we're done?" Josh asked.

"Leave _you_?"

Josh sighed. "I mean the campaign."

Leo shook his head. "Look. I don't know exactly what happened with you two – you don't talk about it, I haven't really run into Donna since then, and all I know is what I've heard from others, but from what I can see, she left one job that was winding down in a year and tried to help get a decent man elected President."

"Decent? Bingo Bob is an unqualified..."

"And you did the same thing."

"You and the President told me to!" Josh said, exasperated.

"Yes we did. But it's still the same thing. Now, you made a better choice, thank God for that. But her leaving her job shouldn't make a difference in whether you trust her or not, not after all you've been through, and all you've done for each other. You know you work well together."

"Yeah, but..."

"Don't overlook the personal component, Josh. I've learned over the years how important that is. It's not everything - you don't want to bring someone on unless they're the best - but it's why the President and I worked so well together, why you brought Sam on, why Toby hired CJ, why you brought Donna into the White House in the first place. Because you know them, and you trust them."

"So you think my not hiring Donna was personal, but I should hire her _because _it's personal?"

Leo nodded.

"So whatever I do, it's personal!"

Leo as if Josh was a particular dim child. "With Donna, Josh, it's always personal for you. Either way, what you do or don't do is up to you. You're the campaign manager. You made some excellent points for why you thought you couldn't hire her, but I think it won't be the scandal you think it is. But you need to be comfortable with your decision."

"Yeah," said Josh, a contemplative look on his face.

Leo looked appraisingly at Josh. "You never said whether you still trust her. After the last eight years, I can't imagine why you wouldn't."

"It's not... it's not that I don't trust her politically. I just don't know if I could... if we could ever work together like we used to. I trusted her with my life, Leo, but the way she left... she didn't even give me a letter of resignation! She just got mad and quit!"

"And you were completely innocent in this?" Leo asked skeptically.

"Well, maybe not _completely_, but..."

"Josh, I've never known quite what was going on with you two. You've been through hell together, over and over, and there have been times I thought you and she would... well, anyway. Remember that Christmas I asked you to help get the Church of the Nativity open?"

"I do," Josh said. The truth was that night had never been far from his mind for years, but this year he had tried not to dwell on it, just like he tried not to think of so many other nights and conversations.

"I told you to get it together, then. You _really_ need to get it together now. The Congressman, the Party, all of us, we're all counting on you. Whatever you decide, make the decision and move on." Leo's voice took on a more fatherly tone. "But make sure you talk with her, whatever you do."

"She's the one who quit, Leo. She stopped talking to me."

"So what? Step up. It's too easy to just not talk, to not fix things, to just focus on work. Then one day you wake up and you don't know each other at all any more. It happened to me. Don't let it happen to you."

"Leo, we're not... it's not like you and Jenny," Josh said, almost sadly.

"Are you sure? Look at it this way – she tried to come back. She opened the door."

"I told her I missed her every day, and she said nothing. It meant _nothing_ to her," Josh said, trying to keep the despair from his voice.

Leo had his 'are you stupid?' expression as he spoke. "Somehow I doubt that. Hire her, don't hire her, talk to her, don't talk to her. It's up to you, Josh, but I can't see how not hiring her and not talking to her will make you any happier. Or her. We need you in the game, Josh, not brooding or wallowing. Now go home," he said, clapping Josh on the shoulder as her turned and left the room.

As Josh sat there in the silence of the night, he thought about what Leo had said. He still didn't think he could hire Donna, not with her catalogue of quotes against Santos. He also didn't know if he could talk to Donna and have a real conversation with her. Not after the interview earlier in the week. Not after half a year of awkwardness. Not after her leaving him, leaving a hole in his life, a hole in his heart. Maybe not talking with her wouldn't making him happier. But if he reached out to her, and things continued the way they had been, he would feel much, much worse. And he didn't know whether he could take feeling any worse than he already did.

He got up, shut off the lights, and left headquarters. As he walked to his car, he tried to decide whether to call her or not. Whether to risk it. It was too late tonight, but maybe he'd call her tomorrow. Maybe he'd talk about putting her on the campaign, in a low-profile position to start with. Maybe he'd see if they could get back some of what they used to have.

Maybe he would be brave enough to reach out.

Maybe.


	2. Chapter 2

_[Author's Note: The idea for this chapter came largely from Chai4anne, who wanted to see Leo have a similar discussion with Donna to the one he had with Josh in the first chapter. Hence, this. Hopefully it works as well as I hoped it would be. Part three will come ideally sooner rather than later.]_

* * *

_September 7, 2006_

Democratic Vice Presidential candidate Leo McGarry once again found himself at Santos/McGarry headquarters late at night, after the first of three marathon debate preparations with Congressman Matthew Santos at a hastily rented hall outside Alexandria. Unlike Jed Bartlet, Santos did not have a vast secluded farm to retreat to for short-notice debate preparation, and Leo was certain Santos hadn't really been thinking of the preparation venue when he had made the debate agreement with Arnie Vinick last night.

Leo saw that Matthew Santos was a smart, earnest, tough and idealistic man who had greatness within him, but he wasn't a natural strategist, and his insistence on making decisions without consulting his advisors often had unforeseen consequences. His instincts were generally good, but sometimes he didn't think of the ramifications of his decisions, or if he did, didn't think of the problems they sometimes caused. A three-day debate preparation period was one of them. Another one was one of the faces at the debate prep today.

Leo didn't envy Josh Lyman. Jed Bartlet was even more stubborn and independent then Matt Santos, but Leo had decades of friendship with the man and was often able to restrain some of his wilder impulses, usually at the cost of watching some of Jed's other impulses run wild. This usually worked out quite well – two general election victories were proof enough of that. Josh and Santos, however, had only really known one another for about a year, and while they worked well together, there wasn't the inherent trust that Jed had with Leo. Santos didn't rely on his campaign manager, didn't consult with his campaign manager, to the same degree Jed had. So far that had worked out well enough. Leo was certain, however, that Santos wasn't taking advantage of Josh's abilities the way he could. The way he should.

Not that Josh was really coming across at his best these days. Especially these last two days. The kid was too distracted. Too... sad.

And he was probably still here once again, burning himself out instead of getting the rest he obviously needed. Leo thought that what Josh really needed was an assistant – someone to look after him, someone to bring him food and coffee and keep him organized and stop him from driving himself to exhaustion and madness. At first he couldn't understand why Josh wouldn't hire one, especially after the convention when the campaign could obviously afford one. Then he thought about it _why_ Josh wouldn't hire an assistant, and the reason became obvious.

When he entered the campaign manager's office, Leo was unsurprised to see Josh at his desk, looking maudlin, drinking from a coffee cup which probably had a more potent liquid in it.

"You should go home, Josh. Get some rest. It's another big day tomorrow."

Josh looked up. "Hey, Leo. I'm just having a drink. Or two."

Leo looked in Josh's cup and frowned. "You think this is the best time for that stuff, kid? You need to be at your best tomorrow."

"What's the matter with having a drink to celebrate and unwind?"

"You're celebrating," Leo said disbelievingly.

"You bet I am. The Congressman's going to be ready, I think. I mean, he was exce... excellel... dammit! _Excellent_ during the debates with Russell, but this is Arnie Vinick he's up against. He's got to be prepared... and he's going to be. He's good Leo."

Leo noticed for the first time how red Josh's eyes were. He wasn't quite _drunk_, and Leo McGarry of all people knew the signs, but he was on the way. There was more than Maker's Mark behind that redness, though, Leo was certain.

"I know he is. It's just that you've never handled whiskey well..."

"It's only my second drink..."

"We've all heard about your sensitive sys..."

"Dammit, can you not call it that?" Josh exclaimed, running his hand through his already messy hair.

"Fine. But I know a thing or two about having a drink... or two... when you're feeling that way. You don't want to end up where I've been, is all I'm saying."

"I won't. And what's the matter with celebrating?"

"Josh. Don't try to pull that crap on me." At Josh's look of confusion, Leo looked straight at him like he was a six-year old boy. "I take it you didn't talk to her? Fix things?"

Josh's answer was quick – quicker than it probably would have been without Kentucky's finest in him. "You can't fix things with someone who doesn't _care_, Leo! She's made it perfectly clear she doesn't give a _damn_ whether things are better between us or not, and that she doesn't give a damn what I think!" he shouted as he took to his feet.

"Josh, Donna Moss certainly cares about what you think of her."

"Yeah... I told you, she didn't care when I told her I missed her every day, Leo! It was just about the job for her. As soon as I said I wasn't going to hire her, she left. Then when Goddamn _Lou_ hires her – and of course _I _don't get a say, why should I? I'm just the fucking campaign manager – when _Lou_ hires her, _knowing_ she was against us in the primaries, what does Donna tell me? That all the years we worked together meant... meant _nothing_. That they were _useless_." Josh was now practically spitting the words with anger.

"Donna wouldn't say that," Leo said, unable to believe.

"No, she didn't say exactly that. But she called the years we were together... I mean, the years we _worked_ together 'grunt-level servitude'. Said I had her working as a short order cook. Apparently, the best years of my life were just a fucking waste of time for her," Josh said.

"She can't believe that, Josh. You taught her everything she knows about politics..."

"Not according to her. She said Goddamn Will Fucking _Bailey_ taught her everything."

"No..."

Josh's laugh was bitter and aimed squarely at himself. "She did. I complimented her on how good she had gotten, back when you were pressuring the Congressman to sign up as Russell's VP candidate, and she was pointing out all the reasons it would be a bad idea."

Leo winced at the memory of trying to get Russell and Santos on the same ticket. It had seemed like such a good idea at the time.

Josh continued in the same bitter tone. "I won't forget what she said as long as I live. I asked her how she got so good at politics, and she said... she told me she had a good teacher. I thanked her, and then she smiles and said 'I meant Will'. '_I meant Will_'! She didn't learn a damn thing from me, if you ask her. I just taught her to burn hamburgers. Didn't even give her a spatula or something. Whatever that means."

Leo was incredulous. He knew that things had been tense between Josh and Donna – that was the reason he had suggested Josh call her, and try to see the reasons he could hire her – but he had thought it was mostly Josh's stubbornness, and misplaced hurt, that held him back. He hadn't realized the extent of what had gone on, or that Josh might have legitimate reasons to not want to reach out. He certainly hadn't realized that Donna had apparently struck at what Josh saw as the heart of his relationship with her.

"Josh..." he began sympathetically, but was cut off by Josh holding up his hand.

"I know. 'Get it together'. I'm trying, Leo. She's a great addition to the staff, I know that. She's amazing. I always knew she'd be amazing..." Leo tried speaking again, but Josh interrupted him once more. "I'm trying to be professional. It's just hard, know you. I thought we had something that mattered to her like it did to me. I guess I was wrong. I've been wrong a lot these last few years," he said sadly. Josh put on his jacket. "I'm going to go home, I think. Have to focus for tomorrow. I'll call a cab, don't worry." Josh said, leaving the room.

Leo sat down, stunned. He had never seen Josh back down from a challenge, or seen him so full of despair. Not when he thought the President was going to fire him after the Mary Marsh incident, not after Chris Carrick's party switch, not when the Santos campaign looked like it would collapse in the early primary season. Not even after he was shot, or during the PTSD incident that terrible Christmas afterwards. The closest Leo had ever seen Josh to looking like he did tonight was just after he got word of the bombing in Gaza, or when he was a little boy after the fire that killed Joanie Lyman.

Leo realized he'd been approaching Josh all wrong about this. He had generally found the proverbial stick a more effective motivational tool to use on Josh Lyman than the carrot. Josh had a tremendous need to prove himself – something that undoubtedly came from surviving the fire that killed Joanie – and a wish to never disappoint those he loved and admired. His parents. Leo. The President. Donna. Leo had used the threat of disappointment, the withdrawal of privileges, the setting of impossible tasks to motivate Josh with great effect over the last eight years. As time went on, however, he noticed it started to be less of a spur to greater things, and more of a burden for Josh. It probably went back to the Carrick Affair, and how Leo had cut Josh out of the loop after that. He still felt a little guilty about that, but it did all work out in the end. By the time Leo was pressuring Josh to get Santos to sign on as Russell's Vice Presidential candidate, however, it didn't work anymore. Still, Leo thought that was the way to motivate Josh into doing something about Donna a month ago. It had usually worked in the past.

It hadn't this time, and when Leo wanted to encourage Josh after he mentioned Donna's spatula comment, wanted to show sympathy with Josh, Josh instinctively thought he was being admonished. Leo wasn't happy with what that said about Josh's expectations of him.

Leo had been unaware of how deep the rift between Josh and Donna ran. He had had no idea of the things Donna had said to him, and how much Josh had been hurt by them. Leo wondered whether Josh would ever get over it. A tiny part of him wondered whether Josh even should, but... no. He shook his head. He was absolutely convinced Donna's reactions came from the same hurt place Josh's reluctance to mend things did. He knew this estrangement between Josh and Donna needed to be fixed or Josh would never be the same, just like he himself hadn't been the same since Jenny left. And while he didn't know Donna nearly as well as he did Josh, she was sure it was the same for her.

Well. If Josh wasn't going to approach Donna, Leo was going to have to talk to her himself. It wasn't something he was at all comfortable doing – even saying "Get it together" was more involved than he was truly comfortable with – but he felt he had to. He owed it to them. To his old friend Noah. To Josh, who was as close to a son a Leo was ever likely to get. And to Donna, who had for so long been Josh's right hand and had given her all for seven years to the Bartlet administration. He had to help them set this right.

* * *

_September 9, 2006_

Leo didn't have a chance to talk to Donna until the day before the debate. He had spent the Friday making campaign appearances in Wilmington, Delaware and Trenton and Newark, New Jersey, before returning to Washington. He was starting to enjoy making campaign appearances, and if he wasn't yet a natural on the platform, he was at least improving noticeably. Partly this was Leo's natural gregariousness overcoming his inexperience. Partly it was the result of half a lifetime of talking policy and politics. Leo might not have been one to talk hope and idealism – Matt Santos was far better at that – but Leo McGarry would tell the crowds what Matt Santos was going to **do**, how he would do it, and what practical effects it would have.

And partly it was due to Annabeth Schott, who was basically his media and speech advisor at that point. They had worked well together since they strong-armed the convention into some semblance of order. She was a weird little pixie, to be sure, but she was what Leo knew only he could really get away with calling someone these days – a classy dame. He thought maybe if she had been on their radar back at the beginning, the Administration could have hired her as a media consultant instead of Mandy Hampton, and then maybe the last seven years would have been easier. Not that Mandy didn't know her stuff, but she never clicked with the team, other than with Josh... and even their relationship didn't translate to a smooth working relationship. Especially after it collapsed. Annabeth, though, got along. Hell, she worked well with _Toby_, for God's sake, and if anyone could work well with him... Leo stopped himself from thinking about the former Communications Director, and his betrayal. He'd deal with his thoughts on _that_ after the campaign.

If they could actually pull this thing off and get into the White House, Leo was certain Annabeth would find as good a position with a Santos Administration as she had with the Bartlet Administration, if she wanted it. They worked well together, though, so Leo was thinking of offering her a high-level position on the Vice Presidential staff, if they won.

If they won. A possibility that tomorrow's debate would make possible – or make impossible.

So there they all were, in a community hall in Falls Church, Virginia. Matt Santos was at one podium, answering questions posed to him by Bram Howard, who was playing Forrest Sawyer's moderator role. Edie Ortega was at the other podium, acting as Arnold Vinick. Leo, Lou Thornton, Josh, Annabeth and Donna were observing, offering suggestions at the Congressman's answers, occasionally getting into arguments with one another about the best way to engage the audience and not get tripped up. Lou was unsurprisingly the most vocal, but all the staffers gave their opinions on the matter as the morning progressed.

Josh and Donna had had a couple of exchanges while arguing about answers and how to present them. To everyone else, they were just the normal arguments disagreeing staffers had. But Leo, as the only one who really knew the two of them, heard how clipped and terse they were. Josh was obviously trying his best to not show any frustration with Donna, but his body language and tone betrayed the tension Leo knew he felt. Leo sensed this, and was certain Donna did too. Donna's responses were equally tense, and more obviously frustrated than Josh's were. Leo thought she hadn't caught the most important thing Leo noticed about her arguments with Josh – the respect and consideration Josh was giving her opinions, even the ones he disagreed with. He argued, but he considered them.

For the third time that morning, and probably the tenth since Thursday, Lou shouted, "Look, Congressman, you have to address either 'Forrest' here," she said, gesturing to Bram, "or the camera. Don't turn to face 'Beltway Arnie' there. You're not really debating him."

"But it's a _debate!_" Santos said, exasperated. "That's the point!"

"Not with this format. It's question and answer," Lou said.

"It's a stupid format."

"It's what we could get."

"Josh, you should call Sheila Brooks and try and change that," Santos said.

"Congressman..." Josh began, but was interrupted by Lou throwing down her pen.

"This is what Brooks negotiated, Congressman. It's too late to change it. This is the format. It's what we got. So stop looking at Bram! It's between you and 80 million Americans, not you and Vinick," Lou shouted.

"_How_ can it not be between – " Santos began, shouting himself, while at the same time, Josh turned to Lou.

"Lou..." Josh said in a warning voice, "don't talk that way to the Cong– "

Leo spoke up. "Time for lunch, I think, right Congressman?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I think we could all use a break," Santos said, leaving the podium.

Annabeth got up. "Join me for lunch? I saw a decent Italian place not far from here," she asked quietly.

Leo shook his head. "I want to talk to Donna," he answered equally quietly.

"Should I be jealous?" she asked with a grin.

"Nah. Just want to see how she's doing since she joined the team."

"That's sweet. Maybe talk to her about all the tension." Leo kept his face expressionless. Annabeth continued. "You know what I'm talking about. I'm not blind, you know." She smiled, squeezed his arm, and went over to Josh. "You need cannelloni," she declared to the campaign manager, pulling him up and leading him out of the hall, throwing a smile to Leo over her shoulder as they left.

Leo walked over to Donna, who was organizing her copious index cards. "How are you doing?" he asked.

Donna smiled widely at Leo. "Hey Leo... I mean, Mr. Secretary," she said, correcting herself.

Leo smiled. "Just Leo, Donna." He held up a hand to interrupt her. "I know. We have to call Matt Santos 'Congressman', but you've known me for eight years, and I'm not the one running for president."

"Right," she said. "You did really well in Wilmington yesterday – I liked how you not only made it clear you have experience with foreign policy, but brought it back to the Congressman's experience with military affairs, and his experience in the Middle East when he was a Marine."

"Yeah, it's not so much of a train wreck as it was back in July. What are you doing for lunch?" he asked, switching topics.

"I was going to go over Ray Sullivan's statements on immigration from his term as Governor and see if I can find anything from when he was in the West Virginia House of Delegates."

"Nah. Do that later. Come for lunch with me – there's a hole-in-the-wall diner a few blocks from here that makes the best Monte Cristos in Falls Church. We haven't talked in a long time – I want to see how you're doing."

Donna hesitated for a moment and then said, "O.K.," and followed Leo out of the hall.

The diner was very small – there were only about six booths. Leo bought them each a Monte Cristo and a salad. Sitting down he said, "I know I shouldn't eat these things since the heart attack, but I've been a good boy for days, and everyone deserves a treat now and then. And they really do make them the best here."

Donna took a bite of her sandwich. "My God," she said, covering her hand with her mouth as she spoke. "Thish ish dewicious."

"The key is the cheese. They use real, fresh Gruyère here. It's the little touches that count," Leo said, opening up his sandwich and spreading some Dijon mustard on the inside. "How are you liking the campaign?"

"I think we have a real shot at winning this," Donna said. "The Congressman likes to go off-script a little too much – that's making my job more interesting! – but he's really a great candidate. Working up close with him, I can really see what... what everyone saw in him."

"Yeah, I feel rather guilty about pushing Josh so hard to get him to sign on to the Vice President's ticket, especially after he tapped my shoulder."

Donna shook her head. "It wouldn't have worked, a Russell-Santos ticket. The Vice President had the experience to be at the top of the ticket, but the Congressman would have overshadowed him. That's what I told J... people. The Vice President still thought the unity ticket with the Congressman was a better choice, though."

"You were pushing for Baker?"

Donna nodded. "Baker would have worked. Wouldn't have overshadowed the Vice President."

"Well, good thing we have Matt Santos at the top of the ticket."

"Yeah, it all worked out," Donna said, neutrally.

"You really believed in Russell," Leo said.

"I honestly thought he was the best choice we had at the time," Donna said. "Russell versus Hoynes? No question. Hoynes had more substantive legislation under his belt than Russell, and a higher profile with the party, but his negatives? Adultery, revealing secrets to impress women, all the constituencies he'd alienated over the years, his antagonistic relationship with the White House? The Vice President may not have been an idea man, but he's a good Democrat, he tried to support the President's agenda as best he could, he had good relationships with both parties in Congress, and no one hated him. He was by far the best choice – the only _real_ choice – right up until Super Tuesday."

Leo was enjoying Donna's analysis of the primaries. "What about after Super Tuesday?"

Donna considered this. "I thought either Bob Russell or Matt Santos would have been a good choice. And realistically, the _only_ reason the Congressman got that far was his staff."

Leo noted Donna had yet to refer to Josh by name. "What about that ad in New Hampshire?"

"That was crucial, no question. But without the national campaign experience that Matt Santos had access to, he wouldn't have been able to consolidate that bump into meaningful numbers. It was only once his campaign was able to get the Congressman some traction and some name recognition that he became a viable choice. Charisma, vision and some interesting ideas don't count for anything at the national level if no one knows who you are," Donna said.

"Think the Vice President will ever run for the nomination again?" Leo asked.

Donna covered her mouth again as she spoke. "It really depends on how we do now, I think. If Vinick wins, I think Bob Russell becomes the presumptive front-runner for the nomination next time."

"Again."

Donna laughed. "There is that. If the Congressman wins, on the other hand..."

"Who's going to remember Bob Russell in 2014?" Leo asked.

"Exactly. But I still wouldn't write him off. He's a better politician than some people think, even if he's never going to be the next Lincoln, FDR, or Jed Bartlet," Donna said.

They ate in silence for a few moments.

"How do you like working with the staff?" Leo asked.

He could tell Donna was considering her answer. "They're all pretty good. Lou Thornton's interesting to work for. I only knew about her through... I only knew about her second hand. She's driven... outspoken. I like her. Edie I don't know well, but she seems to know what she's doing. Bram is... young, but enthusiastic. I don't really know Ronna yet. And Annabeth is just like she was at the White House last year – she knows what she's doing and is very sweet."

The missing name, the name she'd avoided saying throughout the meal, hung between them. Leo wasn't about to let it go unaddressed.

"How's working with Josh again?"

Donna scoffed – probably inadvertently, Leo thought, but she didn't try to retract it.

"We're not working together. I report to Lou, not Josh."

"I know what the Org Chart says, Donna, but I've run one of these before, you may remember. Despite how the lines go, you work for Josh. You all work for Josh. Sometimes I think _we_ all work for Josh," he said with one of his grins that he thought was sure to make her smile.

It did not. "Either way, we're not really working together."

Leo shook his head. "I'm sure that's just because of all the debate prep."

"Leo, I don't really want to talk about Josh."

"Tough, kiddo. You're part of the team, and we have to talk about this. You worked together for nearly eight years. You were the best team we had in the White House, bar none – not even Ed and Larry worked as well together as you and Josh. You're going to throw that away because, what, you're having a little fight?"

Donna raised her voice. "He doesn't want..." She stopped, and looked around. The two other sets of diners – neither, thankfully, from the campaign – appeared not to be paying attention to them. She resumed, more softly, but just as intense. "He doesn't want to work with me, Leo. He doesn't want me there. He's made that perfectly clear. He doesn't think I'm up to the job. Look at how he kept attacking what I said today!"

"He was arguing with you. He might not have agreed with you all the time, but he wasn't dismissing you. You of all people know that if Josh didn't think what you said mattered, he wouldn't take the time to argue," Leo said.

"That's just because he's had his face rubbed in the fact that I'm good at this. I'm _good_ at this, Leo."

Leo smiled proudly at Donna. "I know you are. I always thought you would be. And Josh knows you're good, too, or he wouldn't waste time arguing with you."

"Did he tell you that?" Donna asked.

Leo nodded. "He said you were amazing."

Donna looked surprised, and unexpectedly wistful, Leo thought. "If he really thinks I'm amazing, why wouldn't he hire me? Why did he object to Lou hiring me this week? He's just an ass. I'm sorry, Leo, I know you're close, but he is," Donna said in a downcast tone.

"I'm not as close to Josh as you are," Leo said softly.

Donna scoffed again, deliberately this time. "Yeah. Real close. He didn't even want to work with me again, after all those years. I should have known. I thought we were... maybe... I thought we were at least _friends_, still."

"You and Josh really need to talk, Donna."

"I think Josh and I have talked quite enough, Leo. I'm just going to do my job, and work for Lou."

"Damn it, Donna, I've had just about enough of the two of you," he said, losing patience.

"Talk to Josh, then," she said defiantly.

"I did. He thinks you hate him."

"He thinks I hate _him_? He hates _me!_"

"Have to talked to him? For example, what did Josh say when you talked about why you quit?" Leo asked. Donna cast her eyes downward. "You've never talked to him about it, have you?"

"No! He didn't want to talk! I _tried_, Leo, I tried for _weeks_, and he just ignored me. I wanted more from my job, I wanted to advance in my career, I didn't want to spend my whole like picking up his dry cleaning, for God's sake, but he just blew me off, over and over. He held me back, Leo."

"He held you back," he repeated incredulously.

"Yes."

"He stopped you from applying for jobs?"

"No."

"He refused job transfers you submitted?"

"No, but..."

"He gave bad recommendations to potential employers?"

"No, but... I asked him for _years_ for more, Leo! And he did nothing!"

Leo shook his head. "Josh gave you more than anyone else at your level got, Donna. You went to North Dakota on behalf of the White House. You took meetings for Josh – like that one when Sam was running in the California 47th – "

"With a _Communist_!"

"Yeah, but Josh didn't know that. And Communists are our constituents too, much as we might disagree with them. He had you take other meetings for him, too, handle sensitive issues – I seem to recall some sterling work you did on pardons a few years back. Look, you think Bonnie or Ginger was given the responsibility you got? Or even Margaret? Josh asked for those opportunities for you. And I know it turned out horribly, but he got you the Gaza trip."

Donna looked down at her hands. "He got me that trip to shut me up, Leo. It wasn't... it wasn't a real assignment."

"Donna, Josh fought damn hard to get you that trip. I didn't want to send you – we had a press guy going, but Josh argued you deserved the opportunity to get some first hand experience. He argued that the White House would get more out of sending you than sending C.J.'s guy, more than just someone in the copy room. I didn't want to agree to it – C.J.'s guy was due for a trip – but Josh argued very forcefully that you would be better. And you were." At Donna's surprised expression, Leo said softly, "Before the explosion, you took the time to actually explore the issues in Gaza. To look around, to do exactly what Josh told me you could do. What you would do. He showed me your emails, Donna, while you were in Germany. Both when he was there with you and after he came back. He used them to back up his arguments when we were working out the peace deal at Camp David."

Donna looked stunned.

"He got you everything he could, Donna, everything we could reasonably give an assistant."

"It wasn't enough," she said quietly. "Being an assistant wasn't enough."

"Did he know?"

"I tried to tell him, Leo, for _weeks_. And he just kept blowing me off."

Leo smiled. "Yeah, well, that obviously wasn't right. But he didn't hold you back. He gave you what he could. I'm not saying you weren't right to leave – just look at you! Look at what you've done! But Josh didn't hold you back. He gave you what he could."

"He could have given me a better job."

"A job you didn't ask or apply for. He gave you what he could for your position, Donna."

She said, very quietly, "That wasn't the position I wanted anymore."

"Then you were right to leave. But don't hate Josh."

"I don't. Not any more. Not ever, really, but I think I needed to try to, a little, to leave. But I don't hate him. I'm just... upset. I'm upset he wouldn't hire me, even though he knew what I could do, even though you say he _knows_ I'm good at this!"

"Donna, he had a good reason not to hire you. Less than a week previously you had been slamming the Congressman at every opportunity." Donna began to object, but Leo held up his hand. "Let me finish. I know it was your job. You did damn good at it. But it might have taken time to spin, time the campaign needed to spend on other things, and it might have taken the campaign off message. It's a legitimate reason not to hire someone."

"I thought I was more than just _someone_," Donna said. "But Lou didn't think it was a problem. _Lou Thornton_ didn't care!"

"Lou also didn't hire you four days after the convention. That month makes a difference."

"Even if that were true, Leo – "

"Even if it _were_?"

"Even if that _is_ true. Josh still didn't want to hire me! When he found out Lou hired me, he made it clear he didn't want to. He subjected me to an _interview_, asking for references and experience! Josh knows full well about _all_ of that, considering most of it is _him_. He was just trying to humiliate me, going on about loyalty. I'm loyal! I was the most loyal person he ever could have found. I was _too_ loyal!" she exclaimed.

"You're right – he never would have found anyone else as loyal as you, Donna. I think that's why it hurt him so much when you left," Leo said softly.

"Is that why you say he thinks I hate him, Leo? Because I left? Is that why he hates me?"

"Dammit, Josh does not hate you! But he does think you hate him. And not just because you left – I think he understands why, really, although I know he's still hurt by how abrupt it was. But it's more what he says you've said since then. Something about 'grunt-level servitude' and being a cook."

Donna's pale complexion made the slightest blush instantly visible on her face.

"We were having an argument. I said that right after he was implying that I was disloyal, and when he said he was the one who gave me a career."

"He did."

"I know he did, Leo, but I was angry. He still doubted me and my ability. He wanted me to stay his assistant forever."

Leo shook his head. "When you said that, it sounded to Josh that what you meant was that working for him was pointless, and that you learned nothing from him. He's proud of what you've done, Donna – "

"He doesn't show it!" she interrupted.

"Well, it's obvious to me. Again, you two need to talk. He's proud of what you've done, but when you say things like that, he thinks you think he had no part in any of it, and that hurts him, Donna. And he told me you told him you thought Will Bailey taught you everything."

"It was a joke! It's what Josh and I do! Banter and take little jabs. It's just... it was just a joke."

"It hurt him, Donna. You had to know it would hurt him. It hurt Josh like nothing I'd ever seen anyone say to him. Ever since you left your job with him, he's taken what you've been telling him to mean you think he didn't matter. That you learned nothing from him. And I have to say, I understand why he would think that. It's hard to take it any other way, or to think that wasn't exactly how you intended it," Leo said.

"Maybe I did want it to hurt a little."

"A little?"

"A little. I was just teasing him, Leo," she said softly. "We always used to tease each other. He should know that."

"He doesn't. Josh is a sensitive man, underneath all that swagger and bluster and arrogance, Donna. And you took one thing he's always been proud of – how he showed you the ropes of politics, and took the time to teach you in a way that, quite frankly, none of the other senior staff ever did for their assistants – and made him think it wasn't anything to you. Honestly, Donna, how did you expect him to take it?"

Donna said nothing for a while. Leo continued.

"Now, Josh mentoring you like he did isn't all just due to him. You wanted to learn, you asked questions, you were eager to understand what you were doing and why. You were the ideal student. But that would have had no effect without him wanting to teach you. Doing so meant a lot to Josh."

"It meant a lot to me."

"He doesn't know that. You should tell him." Leo wiped his mouth with his napkin. "Or don't, if it doesn't matter to you. But I don't think that's the case, is it?"

"I does matter," Donna said.

"Then talk to him." He looked at his watch. "We should get back to the Community Hall."

As they walked back, Leo considered saying something else. It wasn't his place, really, to even say as much as he had, but he had one other seed he wanted to plant in Donna's mind, before he was done with this.

"Donna – your anger with Josh. This... friction between the two of you. It's not just about your career, is it?" he asked quietly.

Donna said nothing, but blushed slightly again.

"You should tell him that, too," Leo said.

Donna didn't say anything to that, either, but when Leo looked at her, she looked contemplative. He took that as a good sign. Maybe she would talk to Josh.

Leo certainly hoped so.


End file.
